Read Philippians 1:1-11

Philippi was a city in what is now northwestern Greece. Paul visited it on two of his missionary journeys. It was a Roman colony, which gave the citizens special freedoms and rights. The great east-west highway connecting Asia and Rome’s eastern provinces ran through Philippi.

Those of us in America have a special reason to honor Philippi. Paul wanted to go east on his second missionary journey, into what is now eastern Turkey. The Holy Spirit would not let him. Instead, God’s Spirit directed Paul west across the Aegean Sea to Philippi. He and his friend Silas preached the gospel and a woman named Lydia accepted Christ. Later, Paul angered a local businessman. Paul and Silas were jailed. At midnight, beaten, bleeding and in stocks, they sang hymns. The Philippian jailer and his family heard and were converted. Christianity had come to Europe! See Acts 16 for more of this story.

Soon a Philippian church flourished. With artless inclusiveness Paul addresses his letter to saints, overseers (bishops), deacons, all the church in Philippi, first European city to hear the gospel.

No matter what your ancestry, if you live in the United States, you owe much to the Judeo-Christian roots that have made the USA great. Today let us rejoice that Paul laid the first Christian foundation stone that underlies what we now call “western civilization” when he turned west, not east, and brought the gospel into Europe.

Read Psalm 150:1-6

Do you breathe? If so, the psalmist says you should be praising God.

The Hebrew-Christian Psalter, what we call the book of Psalms, is the hymnal of the Jewish people. It is the Old Testament book most often quoted in the New Testament. Divided into five smaller books, each section ends with a little doxology. Psalm 150 is not only a doxology for the last section, Psalms 107-150, but is a conclusion to the entire Psalter.

What a doxology! This psalm resounds with praise to God. Beat the drums, dance, make a big noise, all in praise to God. Go on, just do it.

After advising us to praise God in church and under God’s sky, that is, everywhere, the psalmist says to praise God for both what He does (“acts of power”) and who He is (“his surpassing greatness”). Then the music begins.

It is evident that religious music in ancient Israel was not only prominent, but both loud and rhythmic. Trumpet, harp, lyre, tambourine, strings, flute, and—last but not least—cymbals, the author ticks off instruments to be used in the worship of God.

He does not mention singing, although other psalms do. This author takes singing for granted. His parting shot is that everything that has breath should praise the Lord. Praising the Lord, naming the things for which you can give thanks, is an excellent way to combat depression.

Read Psalm 146:1-10

We serve a big God. After directing us to praise the Lord, the psalmist warns us not to put our trust in human beings, no matter how high their earthly position (vv. 3-4).

Then he gets to the main thing. You are blessed if you put your trust in God, he says. Hope in Him. He ticks off areas in which God is unsurpassed. In the first place, He is the Creator. He made everything. But God did not create the world and then forsake it. The Lord “remains faithful forever” (v. 6b). If you get no further than that, it is reason enough to serve and love the Lord. But the writer goes on. God addresses social causes by defending the oppressed, feeding the hungry, setting prisoners free (v. 7). Then he turns our attention to God’s power to change the circumstances of individuals. He restores sight to the blind, lifts our loads, loves us, watches over the alien, sustains the fatherless and widow (vv. 8-9).

The thing that really catches our eye is the psalmist’s account of God’s action toward His enemies and ours. The old King James raises an interesting mental picture when it says that God “turneth upside down” the way of the wicked (v. 9b). How’s that for frustrating evil plans?

The last five psalms in the Psalter all begin and end with “Praise the Lord!” That’s good advice, don’t you think?

Read Psalm 142:1-7

I am alone. Nobody cares. What human being has not felt that awful loneliness?

David felt it. The ancient head note on this psalm says it is a prayer David wrote while “in the cave.” After a tearful parting from his friend Jonathan, King Saul’s son, David fled for his life. Following another harrowing experience, he made it to the comparative safety of the cave of Adullam (1 Samuel 22:1). No one knows for sure, but he may have composed this poem while hiding in that cave.

David pours out his heart to the Lord. I’m feeling faint, he says. My enemies hide snares to trap me. No one is concerned about me (vv. 2-4). One of the wonderful things about God is that He never tires of hearing our complaints. David knows this, imploring the Lord to listen to his cry and rescue him. “You are my refuge,” he says.

In the midst of real physical danger, David makes an interesting request. He asks the Lord to free him from “my prison.” Why? “That I may praise your name.” You get the feeling he is talking about a prison of doubt and discouragement. His response to God will be praise. And the result of that? Seeing what the Lord can do, others will gather to David (v. 7).

What do you think? Is your best witness to others what the Lord is doing in your life?

Read Psalm 139:1-24

After my father’s funeral, when the last family member was leaving, my mother waved goodbye and went indoors. Starting up the stairs of her home, she said she prayed, “Lord, how can I stay in this house alone tonight?” She said the Holy Spirit’s quiet inner voice replied, “I am the God of the night as well as of the day.” She remembered this psalm, “…for darkness is as light to you” (v. 12). She reported sleeping well.

Such scrutiny as David describes would be oppressive, even frightening, if God did not do it in such love. Whether I sit or rise, go out or stay in, God knows even my thoughts. Whether I am in heaven or hell, or sprout wings and fly to the other side of the sea, you are still there, the psalmist says to God (vv. 2-12).

Rather than a cry of desperation to get away from God, the psalmist takes comfort in knowing that God watches over him as easily at night as in broad daylight (vv. 11-12).

This psalm came alive to me once when I faced a long, early-morning flight escorting a sick relative. “If I rise on the wings of the dawn,…your right hand will hold me fast.”

Where does God get the privilege of invading our privacy like this? By right of creation. God made us. He planned you, knitting you together Himself in your mother’s womb (v. 13).